Ease Your Mind
by Muse's Inspiration
Summary: And I can understand; all I need is your hand..."


**Title:** Ease Your Mind  
**Author:** Muse  
**Status:** One-shot  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** "And I can understand; all I need is your hand…"  
**Warning:** If you squint, since it IS a crossover, it can be considered AU.  
**Spoilers:** Buffy - through Chosen. SPN - through season 4.  
**Disclaimer:** SPN, Dean and certain plot lines are all belonging to Kripke and CW. Buffy and various plotlines are the sole property of Whedon.  
**Note:** Written for NPO269 for the Route 66 Cupid Mix Challenge. The song I was assigned was _**I'd Be Lying **_by Greg Laswell. This is what the song inspired out of me.

* * *

"I think I was in Heaven…"

Those words reverberated between them, echoing in the silence long after they were spoken. Ramifications of the actions of a small group of people were visualized in Dean's mind. The tearful, broken girl sitting huddled on his cheap motel bed, tore at him in ways that he could never have imagined. He held his hand out to her, his actions offering more than any words he might stumble over if he tried to speak. He was there for her, willing to take on a load that no one else seemed to want to understand.

Buffy looked up at him, eyes nearly blind with tears. The pain of this existence was paralyzing and she just wanted someone to lean on for a short while. Always being the strong one, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, living up to everyone's expectations, to be a leader… these were things she could no longer manage.

Looking into the hazel eyes of a man who understood her world, her Calling, she realized she didn't need to pretend anymore. With a shaking hand, she reached out and took the safe harbor that was offered… and finally allowed the strength to come from someone else as she shattered.

"I died, Dean. For Dawn… for the _world_. And they brought me _back_. I don't understand!"

Dean wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her onto his lap as he settled back against the head of the bed. Murmuring soothing words of comfort, he provided her shelter from the storm and allowed her to release all that she had held within her.

They stayed that way long through the night… and Dean wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

"I know I was in Hell…"

The words faded into distant echoes between them. Dean looked down, scrubbing his face with a hand and wishing he could take back the words as soon as they left his lips. The things he'd done; the horrors, the terrors… She'd never understand.

Buffy turned and walked towards him, reaching out a hand to gently take the one hanging by his side in hers. Her heart ached for him; she could see the strain of the burden he carried on his shoulders and his deep shame for his actions. She took a deep breath, knowing that she was about to tear open a wound that was festering in his soul.

"Dean, you did what you needed to do. No one can fault you for doing what you had to in order to survive."

Dean snapped his gaze to hers and his lips tightened in anger. He snatched his hand from hers, the acceptance in her touch burning him more than the fires and heat of where he'd been ever had. He didn't deserve what she was offering. He was weak; he was dirty.

Buffy could sense the turmoil roiling within him, tearing and ripping him to shreds more and more every day. This was why she had driven all through the night, leaving her friends and family without a word when the call from Sam had come. This was why she hadn't taken a moment to pack a bag or stop for food.

Because she was the only one who understood.

"Please, Princess… just go. Just… I… Please."

The whispered plea would have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but she had heard it clearly.

"I can't, Dean. I know, ok? I get it. I _understand_."

Dean shook his head. She'd never understand what it was like, being there all those years, the threats that were used against him…

"How long were you there, Dean?"

The question took him by surprise and he started slightly, his gaze locking with hers.

"Four months. Or didn't you get the memo?" Dean snarked at her with his signature bullshit smile.

Buffy snorted. "Try again, big guy. Or did you forget? I sent Angel to Hell for a 100 years… and he was only actually gone for a year." Dean lowered his gaze from hers, suddenly fascinated with the grass that was growing between his feet. "So… how long? 30 years? 40?" Dean nodded and her heart sank. "Oh, Dean… what they probably did to you while you were there for that long…"

Dean blinked away the moisture threatening to spill over and he cleared his throat. He knew she wouldn't let up until he finally told her. If he gave in now, then maybe she'd leave while she still could. "The first thirty, I fought them, Buffy. Every day, they'd come with threats and torture and I fought them…" he trailed off and looked away as the memories took over. "After that, I…" he sighed sadly, "I just couldn't fight anymore." He looked back at her and saw the tears running down her face and frowned. "I was good at it, Princess. Real good."

Buffy nodded and swallowed. She looked out over the valley they were parked at and said softly, absently, "You know, it doesn't matter though."

"What?"

Buffy looked back at him and smiled sadly. "There's not much you can do that could get me to run away from you, Dean." He stared at her intently. "You and me? – we're different from everyone else. I'll understand when no one else will. And you will, too." She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him and tightening her embrace when he tried to move away. "We'll take the fall together, Dean."

Dean fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and take the comfort she was offering him, but found that he couldn't. Groaning in surrender, he wrapped her up tightly, his face burying in her hair as he finally took the strength she was offering him.


End file.
